The Substitute
by Broken Keyboard
Summary: When Ms. Bitters unleashes the wrath of a substitute teacher from the skool basement, Dib becomes the target of a semi-stoppable monster.
1. Chapter 1

Ms. Bitters silently conspired a way to break her student's spirits, eyeing the weapons of torture with a detached fondness. She particularly hated her students that day, and as punishment for wasting her time with their existence, she had to make them feel especially miserable. Almost as miserable as her, even—as much as one could possibly be made miserable in one school day. "It's time to make a call," she murmured, and turned in her rolling chair abruptly. The wheels screeched horribly as she scooted up to the desk phone, and she dialed each number decisively. "Send me the substitute."

The skool classroom sweltered, and brains popped out of student's skulls like fresh popcorn. In the front was an obese man with blood red skin and horns protruding from his skull. He carried himself like an authoritative figure with his hands almost reaching behind his back and his eyebrows thick and straight, and his body was contained by a suit that was slowly ripping from his size. He cleared the phlegm from the back of his throat and straightened his back. And then he opened his mouth, and his voice was nasally and high-pitched: "My name is Mr. Burns, and I will not Ms. Bitters will not be here today, so she left you worksheets to finish by the end of class."

A boy in the front twitched from the pain of his brain frying on his desk. Mr. Burns glared at him intently and slammed his fist on the desk. "IF YOU CAN'T TAKE YOUR CAREER AS A STUDENT SERIOUSLY, YOU'RE GOING TO BE A FAILURE AND DESCEND TO A LIFE OF CRIME!" The old man at the back of the classroom nodded knowingly. "CLASS, TAKE OUT YOUR PENCILS AND BEGIN WORKING." Zim shifted uneasily as Mr. Burns focused on him. He got up in his face, his horns almost skewering his head. "And if you don't have a pencil with you, just go ahead and end your life now, because you can't fill out an application for your inevitable careers in fast food or something equally miserable without a pencil. So either get out your pencils or just go ahead to the state prison, because that's where you're gonna end up."

Dib removed two pencils from his bag, and he noticed Zim's eyes suddenly on him. He looked back at him and dropped the spare back in his bag deliberately. A small mechanical arm started inching toward him as he began working on his worksheet. With one shot of his laser gun it disintegrated. Zim growled, which made not smiling impossible for Dib. He removed the pencil from his bag and waved it at him. Their eyes met. Not removing eye contact, Dib gripped the pencil in both hands and snapped it. Zim gasped contemptuously.

But the sound had also attracted the attention of the substitute. "THAT NOISE HAD BETTER NOT BE A PENCIL SNAPPING!" Despite being extremely large and heavy, he was looming over Dib in an instant. He pointed at him, his sweaty finger shaking. "GET. OUT. OF. THIS. CLASSROOOOOOM." Dib, cowering, took up his bag and skittered over to the door. He took one glance back, and noticed Zim was triumphantly smirking back at him. In his hand was Dib's unbroken pencil. He was about to say something, but then the door slammed shut on its own, and Dib was trapped in the hallway, where he was then tasered by the hall monitor. Before he lost all motor control of his limbs, he gasped, "I'll get you, Zim..."

The day continued to be hot, and flies would occasionally spontaneously combust. Dib used the neighbor's hose to return moisture to his shriveled eyes before running back to his usual hiding spot. He knew without a doubt that Zim still had his pencil, but getting it back was going to prove challenging. He had to think up a plan, but Zim was not in his line of sight so he lacked that advantage. "Maybe he's still at the skool…"

After about an hour more of waiting he got tired of sitting outside in the heat, so he went to the front door and knocked. GIR opened the door and hugged him, which of course was very uncomfortable considering he was all metal. "Master not home right now," he said cheerfully, "Want to sit on the couch with me?" At first Dib was going to say no, he was on a mission… but then he noticed Mysterious Mysteries was on, and his feeble mind could not resist its charms. "Eh… I guess for a little while. 'Till Zim gets home."

But hours passed and Dib was starting to feel his brain attempting to escape his head. GIR had fallen asleep—or, well, maybe not sleep, but he wasn't moving and his eyes were closed, so he was doing the robot equivalent of sleeping. A maggoty hamburger fell on Dib's head, and he boredly picked the maggots out of his hair while a reenactment of some presumably supernatural event was going on onscreen. A moment later he felt himself starting to get a little drowsy, so he reclined a bit on the couch. His elbow hit the TV remote, and the sudden change startled him awake. It was a news station, and his skool was being shown onscreen.

Dib sat straight up and turned up the volume. "…and he is expected to receive a life sentence." The feed cut to his teacher in an orange prison jumpsuit, and he was talking gruffly, "He deserved what he got. His worksheet was unfinished, and his pencil looked stupid." The sound cut off to a somber anchor woman. "The suspect reportedly stabbed the victim multiple times in the head, stomach and chest with a pencil." Shots showed a pixilated image of a pencil, where a subtitle disclaimed that it was only a similar model to the weapon the suspect implemented.

"Though the victim survived the attack, young Jim now requires intensive care. John?" A man cleared his throat and picked up the conversation. "Thank you, Wonda. Due to this attack, the skool board has decided to ban pencils from the school premises to prevent further events like this from happening. In other news, farmer reveals that cancer is caused by breathing."

Dib took a deep breath and chewed his lip. None of his classmates were named Jim, as far as he knew. He wondered if maybe they meant Zim, but that also meant that Mr. Burns thought Dib's pencil looked stupid, which it wasn't. However, if Zim got stabbed, it wasn't like it would be fatal to his alien intestines. And if surgeons were looking at his insides, they were bound to find out what he really was. Then Zim would be carted away in the name of science, and no one would think Dib was crazy anymore. And his dad would be proud of him, no doubt.

Eventually it was bedtime and Zim was still not home, so Dib said goodbye to GIR and walked back to his house. He wondered what would happen to Zim's house, and if GIR would be taken apart. That sounded just fine… that robot was annoying. Gaz looked at him suspiciously when he entered the house, and said, "Wow, you smell like rotten hamburger." "Yeah," Dib replied with a sigh, though he didn't actually know what he said "yeah" to. He brushed his teeth and put on his PJ's, and at the AM's he found himself staring at the ceiling. "Gah, why can't I sleep? Zim's going to be locked up for good, and I won't have to worry about him killing me in my sleep." He turned over. "Maybe my dad will let me be the head scientist. I could see what Zim's insides looked like and maybe get my pencil back." He turned to the other side. "And then I can focus on cooler stuff like ghosts and vampires. That'll be a nice contrast to stupid green-" "Will you SHUT UP already?" Gaz irritably yelled from the other room. "Sorry, Gaz!" Dib replied, sounding more fearful than he meant to.

But yeah, he could be rid of that stupid green alien for good.


	2. Chapter 2

In his jail cell, Mr. Burns paced back and forth along the wall. Shouting came from down the hallway and his bunkmate was drooling pitifully into his pillow. "There's someone here to see you," the Warden said, and Mr. Burns turned to see Ms. Bitters floating like an apparition. "Your work is not finished," she hissed. "You're supposed to eliminate all the lazy ingrates that pollute my classroom. Those who did not complete the worksheet." Mr. Burns shrunk a little, intimidated by the older woman. "But… But how can I in this cell?" Ms. Bitters grabbed his hand, causing a pencil to materialize. "The center of this pencil is forged with lead. You know what you need to do. By the stroke of… Err, 2PM tomorrow, you will complete your task or be sent back to standardized tests." Mr. Burns clutched the pencil nodded.

Dib woke up to the smell of fire and brimstone, and he rubbed his eyes tiredly. GIR was in the kitchen, the green cloth covering his robot body was on fire, which he was completely unaware of. Dib smothered the fire with an oven mitt and made himself a bowl of cereal. GIR went to sit at the table gingerly, his wiring apparently reacting to the overheating. "I made pancakes for you." He pushed a plate of burnt flour mud towards Dib. They sort of looked like pancakes if you squinted and were blind.

The smell was much more pungent, as if he had mashed up some garbage in that flour (if it was flour…). Dib looked at the plate awkwardly and pushed it away before his gag reflex kicked in (too much). "You eat them. I'm not gonna…" GIR's face threatened to explode into a tantrum. "Err… what I meant to say was… You worked so hard on them." GIR smiled. Whew, narrowly escaped that one. "Oki-dokey! I'm gonna do that!" said the robot, and in an instant the pancakes were consumed and GIR's wiring sizzled in weak protest to the foreign objects and his eyes shut down for a moment. Dib became slightly concerned until GIR began laughing insanely. "I'm gonna make some MOOORE!" "Er, well, I have to go to skool," Dib said, and ran out before GIR could react.

Dib walked down the hall to his class, noticing that the place was eerily quiet. Students shuffled by with their pupils dilated and their notebooks clutched to their sides like military guns. They looked at him strangely, and he couldn't get rid of the nagging sensation that he should get out of there. In the classroom he was disappointed to see that Zim was, indeed, still there. And then Dib remembered the kid right next to him, whose desk was now vacant, was named Jim. Ms. Bitters cleared her throat. "Nice of you to join us today, Dib. What's your excuse for being late this time?" Simultaneously, all the students turned to stare at him. Dib gulped, but his mouth was dry. "Er… But Ms. Bitters… I'm not late today." "You are late for being five minutes early, Dib, which tells me you did not finish your worksheets."

Dib glanced over at Zim, who was following his movements in a way that made Dib incredibly uncomfortable. "Class!" Ms. Bitters said, and all the students turned their attention to her. "This student not do his HOMEWORK! GET HIM!" One little girl launched into the air and lunged for Dib. The others followed suit, and Dib ran down the hall screaming. He could hear the groans of students behind him, horrible cries of "Homewooork!" being shouted down the hall.

He ran out to the courtyard, certain this was going to be his end, but then he glanced back. Students pressed against the door, howling in pain and nashing their teeth. Dib backed away, but it seemed as if they couldn't breach the entrance of the school. "Just wait 'till skool lets out!" shouted one kid. "We're gonna get you, Dib!" The others screeched in agreement. As Dib ran down the street, the voices were still carried to him. "You're gonna regret not doing your homework, Dib! Bwahahahahahaaa!"

Back at his house, Dib locked the door and ran up to his room. GIR managed to follow him close enough that he couldn't shut the door on him. Dib grabbed him and threw him out of the room, slamming the door loudly. "Wait... He probably knows something!" Dib reopened the door and snatched GIR back into the room. "GIR! What was Zim doing last night?" "Nyehhh… Ummm… I dunno. He been goin' to a study group 'n doin' his homework!" Dib dropped Gir. "A study group?" "Mmmyeah." "Where?" "I dunnooo." GIR rubbed his head, which had opened due to the fall. Dib sighed. "We need to find out where this study group is. And have a talk with Jim. Something tells me we'll find out more there." He tapped his chin. "But they're gonna be looking for me. I need to find some way… A disguise…"

He looked over at GIR. "Hey, wasn't your dog suit burnt this morning?" GIR stared at him blankly, and then brought out the burnt suit. "So you have replacements? Can I have one?" GIR contemplated this for a moment, sizing Dib up. "Humm, okay!" Then he brought out a maggoty hamburger. "No, GIR, I mean the disguise! The dog suit!" GIR stared at him blankly. "Gah! Never mind! Stupid robot!" He snatched the burnt suit from GIR and put it on. His hair poked out from one of the burn holes. "Stay put." He glanced at his alarm clock before he ran out. 10AM.

Dib ran down the sidewalk, focused and fiercely determined. School was not out until 2PM, so he had to stay low until the study group began. In the meantime he had to get a chance to talk to Jim. Dark clouds had formed in the sky. It wasn't too long before he reached the hospital. "I need to see Jim!" he announced. "You can only see him if you're a member of his immediate family," a young and tired looking nurse said. "Otherwise, come back later." But Dib was very clever, and he said, "Oh, but I'm the family dog. Um… Woof!" The receptionist sighed. "Go ahead. He's in the left corridor, 5 doors down."

Jim lay in his bed drooling. His brain, still dry like a popcorn kernel, was hooked up to an IV in the bed right next to him. Dib burst in, waking both Jim and his brain. Jim gasped in surprise. "Ralphie, I KNEW you'd come to visit me!" Dib slipped his head out of the dog suit. "Sorry… I'm not really your dog, but I had to see you." Jim's brain looked at him curiously. "Dib?... What are you doing here?" "Uhhh— …" He never really liked talking to dried brains. "I have to know what happened after I got kicked out of class. Why is everybody acting so strangely?" Jim's Brain nodded at Dib's question.

"As you know, it was an incredibly hot day that day. As usual when it got too hot or too boring to be in my body, I go out for a walk sometimes." The pink, squishy blob shifted. "I was just laying out on the desk when we received the worksheets. I didn't have a pencil to fill out my worksheet, so I turned to ask you for a pencil… But you snapped it in half. Little did I know that you were trying to warn me, so I was angry at you… When you left the class, I took the two halves of the pencil and glued them back together." The brain started to tear up. "I knew how stupid it looked, but it was all I had… Still, it was too wobbly to be of any use… I hadn't even answered the first question by the time class was over." He sniffed. "Little did I know how lucky I was. You… You see, the worksheets brainwashed everybody. Now they are all slaves to the school!" Dib gasped. The brain continued solemnly, "That's why we're safe. Because we didn't complete those worksheets."

Dib paced back and forth. "Yeah, but we won't be safe for long. It's really, really nice that I'm not alone this time, though. As I usually am." A nurse with a tall hat walked in as he said this. "Now, all we need to do is find out their weakness. We can even-" he turned around and realized the brain was gone. "Jim? JIM?" Dib looked at the nurse, and through caked makeup and a really cheap yarn wig, realized he was truly looking at… "MR. BURNS! What have you done with Jim's brain?" Mr. Burns cackled. "Only what I'm going to do to yours!" He took out a pencil and swiped at Dib.

"LEAD POISONING! But why?" Dib cried, his voice cracking. "Jim's brain knew too much, and you're just a disobedient scourge of a student! With this lead, you won't be able to think about anything but pencils again!" Jim's brain cried out from Mr. Burn's pocket. "Go now, Dib! It's too late for me!" "No, Jim's brain! I'm not leaving you like this!" "You don't understand- I've only got moments left before all I can think of is pencils… but I can hold him off for a little while, long enough for you to escape! Just so you know, Dib… I believed you about Zim all along." Dib began to cry. "I'll remember you, Jim's brain!" And then he ran away. "Go now!" Jim's brain cried. "Now, Mr. Burns, ready for a POP QUIZ?"

Dib got to his house gasping and crying. GIR walked up to him silently and patted him on the back silently. "At least I've got you, you stupid robot," Dib sighed. GIR began to sob and clutched Dib. "I'm happy because I LOVE YOU!" Dib hugged GIR back, deciding the robot was not all that uncomfortable to hug. Then his mind changed after GIR wouldn't let go, and he pried him off forcefully. Then he looked at the clock. There was still four more hours until the study group, and he knew it was only a matter of time before Mr. Burns would find his house. He needed to get some weapons, and fast. Dib pulled the suit back over his head and set out the door. It was time to shop for some skool supplies.


End file.
